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A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES 




THE MOON. 



CSee page 43.) 



I J 



a 



mlir (Knsit (Cnrnrr jjrrtrn 
A 

CHILD'S GARDEN 
OF VERSES 



BY 

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 

w 

WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

THOMAS TAPPER, LlTT.D. 

Lecturer in New York University and in the Institute 
of Musical Art of the City of New York 



Illustrated by 
ETHELDRED B. BARRY 




BOSTON 

THE PAGE COMPANY 

MDCCCCXVIII 






Copyright, 1900 
By The Page Company 

Copyright, 1918 
By The Page Company 

All rights reserved 



Eighth Impression, July, 1907 
Ninth Impression, February, 1009 
Tenth Impression, March, 1910 
Eleventh Impression, February, 191 1 
Twelfth Impression, June, 1912 
Thirteenth Impression, July, 1918 



THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON. U. S. A. 



AUG 13 1918 

©CU503160 



V «^U « \ 



TO 

&Ifeon Cunmngljam. 

FROM HER BOY. 

For the long nights you lay awake 
And watched for my unworthy sake: 
For your most comfortable hand 
That led me through the uneven land 
For all the story-books you read : 
For all the pains you comforted : 
For all you pitied, all you bore, 
In sad and happy days of yore : — 
My second Mother, my first Wife, 
The angel of my infant life — 
From the sick child, now well and old, 
Take, nurse, the little book you hold ! 

And grant it, Heaven, that all who read 
May find as dear a nurse at need, 
And every child who lists my rhyme, 
In the bright, fireside, nursery clime, 
May hear it in as kind a voice 
As made my childish days rejoice! 

L. S. 



FOREWORD 



This book of verses, the joy of all chil- 
dren, young and old, is a true Garden of 
Hesperides. It is just at the end of the rainbow 
and its crocks and pots of gold abound. In this 
wonder world the fairy of infinite Delight waits 
to fill the heart with happiness ; here the Hours, 
like other fairies, are ever ready to unfold rare 
adventures for those who are as innocent and as 
courageous as little children. 

A richly-peopled world lies hidden in these 
pages. Here we enter a rare company. As we 
go from one mystic rite to another we find our- 
selves loving everybody, for we feel at once that 
everybody loves us. So they all belong to us and 
we to them : the dear nurse, the serious gardener, 
Tom who goes a-sailing, and Auntie whose 
dresses make a curious sound. We find our- 
selves loving even the little shadow " that goes in 
and out with me." And best of all the Lamp- 
vii 



Vlll FOREWORD. 

lighter, to whom every child's heart sings with 
that of the poet : 

" Oh, Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the lamps 
with you." 

Then, again, this book is a world of wonder- 
ful retreats. Did poet ever before beckon us into 
so many golden nooks ? Entice us into so many 
sunlit dells? Invite us to restful chambers 
whither dusty feet may go? Show us so many 
lovely out-of-the-way corners where a child may 
hide himself from the dull world in whose streets 
grown-up people's feet resound? 

And who can forget the Foreign Lands one 
sees from the cherry tree ; and those others we 
catch sight of as the swing mounts high. Then 
we come to the mystic land of counterpane ; 
thence to the Land of Nod, where curious music 
sounds. Who has not grown weary with sheer 
fatigue at the long and toilsome journey of the 
Northwest Passage that begins at Lamplight 
time and ends in the warm and cheerful room 
where mother comes quietly to give us a good 
night kiss? 

How the purple and gold, the rose and emer- 
ald green of playtime-romance tinges it all. The 
little child listens to these rhyming tales, eyes 



FOREWORD. IX 

aflame with wonder and heart beating high. 
While his elders, grandfather and all, listen, too, 
with eyes alight and the heart weaving heavenly 
smiles that shall break upon lips which have long 
since ceased to repeat the rhymes of childhood. 

O poet, what power lies in thy magic wand! 
No sooner dost thou touch us than the dull gray 
day is aflame with color and sunshine, the air 
vibrant with singing birds, the hills flocked with 
bleating lambs. Who would not follow thee ? 

No narrator of childhood joys (for sorrow 
does not dwell in this golden book) has ever 
told quite so much either of the mystic world of 
make-believe, or of the solemn every-day life 
that grown-up people seem to think it wise to 
live. True, the poet is a man, but he sings as a 
child ; and with so tender a voice that every one 
of us, however far from childhood days we may 
have wandered, sings in tune with him. Here, 
he says to us, is that heaven out of which you 
have come. Why not return to it, to dwell for- 
ever in its reality ? 

The Child's Garden of Verses is for the child 
who plays and for every elder whose heart is 
warm with the memory of playtime days. But 
more than this, there is a great philosophy in 
these pages; here lies hidden a truth that tells 



X FOREWORD. 

us (of the serious mind) that heaven does truly 
lie about us in our infancy. And not then alone. 
Though it becomes obscured to the growing boy 
and lost to the careworn man, the conviction 
arises in us as we read these songs that for 
years we have been taking the wrong turning. 
And so we find ourselves in the Land of Un- 
reality, yet how real to us with its cares, its 
burdens and its solemn-moving ghosts. But 
how unreal to the little traveller on the highway 
of life who banishes all dreariness by this simple 
recipe : 

When at home alone I sit 

And am very tired of it, 

I have just to shut my eyes, 

To go sailing through the skies — 

To go sailing far away 

To the Pleasant Land of Play. 

This, we venture to think, was the secret of 
the poet. He knew how to go sailing far away 
to the Pleasant Land of Play. A brave man, 
upon whom Nature laid the heavy hand of ill- 
ness, but who gave him for compensation the 
lightsomest, happiest, merriest, gentlest heart 
that ever sang melodies. 

The world owes much to you, O maker of 



FOREWORD. X1 

magic scenes. Yet most, we doubt not, for the 
entrancing tunes you played so sweetly, for the 
little ones, on the fairy pipe, as you stood by the 
cradle, or walked in the garden ; as you went up 
the stairs to the big bedroom ; as you passed under 
the swing, and everywhere else in that world 
where children go to keep safe within the king- 
dom, and to keep the kingdom safe within 
themselves. Thomas Tapper. 




CONTENTS. 



Tc Alison Cunningham 

Bed in Summer . 

A Thought . 

At the Sea-side . 

Young Night Thought 

Whole Duty of Children 

Rain . 

Pirate Story 

Foreign Lands 

Windy Nights 

Travel 

Singing 

Looking Forward 

A Good Play 



PAGE 
V 
I 

2 

3 

4 
5 
6 

7 
8 

9 
lo 

12 



xiv CONTENTS 










PAGE 


Where Go the Boats? 15 


Auntie's Skirts . 










16 


The Land of Counterpane 










17 


The Land of Nod 










18 


My Shadow 










21 


System . 










23 


A Good Boy 










24 


Escape at Bedtime 










25 


Marching Song . 










27 


The Cow 










28 


Happy Thought . 










3i 


The Wind . 










32 


Keepsake Mill 










35 


Good and Bad Children 










37 


Foreign Children 










38 


The Sun's Travels 










39 


The Lamplighter 










40 


My Bed Is a Boat 










42 


The Moon . 










43 


The Swing . 










44 


Time to Rise 










45 


Looking-glass River . 










. 46 


Fairy Bread 










48 


From a Railway Carriage 










49 


Winter-time 










50 


The Hayloft 










51 


Farewell to the Farm 










52 


Northwest Passage 










53 


I. Good-night. 


II. Shadow March. 


III. In Port. 













CONTENTS. 



XV 



THE CHILD ALONE. 



The Unseen Playmate 






61 


My Ship and I . 






. 63 


My Kingdom 






65 


Picture-books in Winter 




. 


67 


My Treasures 






68 


Block City .... 






70 


The Land of Story-books . 




• 


72 


Armies in the Fire 




. 


74 


The Little Land . 




• 


75 


GARDEN DAYS. 




Nest Eggs .... 




• 


84 


The Flowers 




• 


86 


Summer Sun 




• 


. . . 8S 


The Dumb Soldier 




. 


. . 89 


Autumn Fires 




. 


9 1 


The Gardener . 




. 


9 2 


Historical Associations 




• 


95 


ENVOYS 




To Willie and Henrietta 




99 


To My Mother . 






100 


To Auntie . 






101 


To Minnie . 






102 


To My Name-child 






c I05 


To Any Reader . 






. 107 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

The Moon Frontispiece 

At the Sea -side 3 

Rain 6 

Singing 12 

My Shadow 19 

The Cow .29 

The Wind 33 

The Lamplighter 40 

Time to Rise 45 

Northwest Passage 1 53 

Northwest Passage II. . . „ . -55 

Northwest Passage III 57 

My Treasures 69 

The Land of Story-books . . , -73 

The Flowers 86 

The Gardener . . . . . . 93 

Tailpiece 107 

xvii 



CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES, 



Bed in Summer. 

In winter I get up at night 
And dress by yellow candle-light. 
In summer, quite the other way, 
I have to go to bed by clay. 

I have to go to bed and see 
The birds still hopping on the tree, 
Or hear the grown-up people's feet 
Still going past me in the street. 

And does it not seem hard to you, 
When all the sky is clear and blue, 
And I should like so much to play, 
To have to go to bed by day ? 

* The notes will be found at the end of the book. 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



A Thought. 

It is very nice to think 
The world is full of meat and drink, 
With little children saying grace 
In every Christian kind of place. 



AT THE SEA - SIDE. 




At the Sea-side. 

When I was down beside the sea 
A wooden spade they gave to me 
To dig the sandy shore. 

My holes were empty like a cup. 
In every hole the sea came up, 
Till it could come no more. 




A CHILD S GYRDEN OF VERSES. 



Young Night Thought. 

All night long and every night, 
When my mama puts out the light, 
I see the people marching by, 
As plain as day, before my eye. 

Armies and emperors and kings, 
All carrying different kinds of things. 
And marching in so grand a way, 
You never saw the like by day. 

So fine a show was never seen 
At the great circus on the green ; 
For every kind of beast and man 
Is marching in that caravan. l 

At first they move a little slow, 
But still the faster on they go, 
And still beside them close I keep 
Until we reach the town of Sleep. 



WHOLE DUTY OF CHILDREN, 



Whole Duty of Children. 

A child should always say what's true 
And speak when he is spoken to, 
And behave mannerly at table ; 
At least as far as he is able. 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 





Rain. 



The rain is raining all around, 
It falls on field and tree, 

It rains on the umbrellas here, 
And on the ships at sea. 



PIRATE STORY. 



Pirate Story. 



Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing-, 

Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea. 
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the 
spring, 
And waves are on the meadow like the 
waves there are at sea. 

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're 
afloat, 
Wary of the weather and steering by a star ? 
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat, 
To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Mala- 
bar? 

Hi ! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the 
sea — 
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a 
roar ! 
Quick, and we'll escape them, they're as mad 
as they can be, 
The wicket is the harbour and the garden 
is the shore. 



A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Foreign L^nds. 

Up into the cherry tree 

Who should climb but little me ? 

I held the trunk with both my hands 

And looked abroad on foreign lands. 

I saw the next door garden lie, 
Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
And many pleasant places more 
That I had never seen before. 

I saw the dimpling river pass 
And be the sky's blue looking-glass ; 
The dusty roads go up and down 
With people tramping in to town. 

If I could find a higher tree 
Farther and farther I should see, 
To where the grown-up river slips 
Into the sea among the ships. 

To where the roads on either hand 
Lead onward into fairy land, 
Where all the children dine at five. 
And all the playthings come alive. 



WINDY NIGHTS. 



Windy Nights. 

Whenever the moon and stars are set, 

Whenever the wind is high, 
All night long in the dark and wet, 

A man goes riding by. 1 
Late in the night when the fires are out, 
Why does he gallop and gallop about ? 

Whenever the trees are crying aloud, 

And ships are tossed at sea, 
By, on the highway, low and loud, 

By at the gallop goes he. 
By at the gallop he goes, and then 
By he comes back at the gallop again. 



IO A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Tra.vel. 

I should like to rise and go 

Where the gulden apples'grow ; — 

Where below another sky 

Parrot islands anchored lie, 

And, watched by cockatoos and goats, 

Lonely Crusoes building boats ; — 

Where in sunshine reaching out 

Eastern cities, miles about, 

Are with mosque 2 and minaret 3 

Among sandy gardens set, 

And the rich goods from near and far 

Hang for sale in the bazaar, 4 — 

Where the Great Wall round China 

goes, 
And on one side the desert blows, 
And with bell and voice and drum, 
Cities on the other hum ; — 
Where are forests, hot as fire, 
Wide as England, tall as a spire, 
Full of apes and cocoa-nuts 
And the negro hunters' huts ; — 
Where the knotty crocodile 



TRAVEL. I I 

Lies and blinks in the Nile, 
And the red flamingo flies 
Hunting fish before his eyes ; — 
Where in jungles, near and far, 
Man-devouring tigers are, 
Lying close and giving ear 
Lest the hunt be drawing near, 
Or a comer-by^e seen 
Swinging in a palanquin 2 ; — 
Where among the desert sands 
Some deserted city stands, 
All its children, sweep and prince, 
Grown to manhood nges since, 
Not a foot in street or house, 
Not a stir of child or mouse, 
And when kindly falls the night, 
In all the town no spark of light. 
There I'll come when I'm a man 
With a camel caravan ; 
Light a fire in the gloom 
Of some dusty dining-room ; 
See the pictures on the walls, 
Heroes, fights and festivals ; 
And in a corner find the toys 
Of the old Egyptian boys. 



12 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 




Singing. 

Of speckled eggs the birdie sings 
And nests among the trees ; 

The sailor sings of ropes and things 
In ships upon the seas. 



The children sing in far Japan, 
The children sing in Spain ; 

The organ with the organ man 
Is singing in the rain. 



LOOKING FORWARD. 



Looking Forward. 

When I am grown to man's estate 
I shall be very proud and great, 
And tell the other girls and boys 
Not to meddle with my toys. 



14 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



A Good Play. 

We built a ship upon the stairs 
All made of the back-bedroom chairs, 
And filled it full of sofa pillows 
To go a-sailing on the billows. 

We took a saw and several nails, 
And water in the nursery pails ; 
And Tom said, " Let us also take 
An apple and a slice of cake ; " — 
Which was enough for Tom and me 
To go a-sailing on, till tea. 

We sailed along for days and days, 
And had the very best of plays ; 
But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, 
So there was no one left but me. 



WHERE GO THE BOATS? 1 5 



Where Go the BoeUs? 

Dark brown is the river, 

Golden is the sand. 
It flows along for ever, 

With trees on either hand. 

Green leaves a-floating, 

Castles of the foam, 
Boats of mine a-boating — 

Where will all come home ? 

On goes the river 

And out past the mill, 

Away down the valley, 
Away down the hill. 

Away down the river, 

A hundred miles or more, 

Other little children 

Shall bring my boats ashore. 



1 6 A child's garden of verses. 



Auntie's Skirts. 

Whenever Auntie moves around, 
Her dresses make a curious sound, 
They trail behind her up the floor, 
And trundle after through the door. 



THE LAND OF COUNTERPANE. 



The Land of Counterpane. 

When I was sick and lay a-bed, 
I had two pillows at my head, 
And all my toys beside me lay 
To keep me happy all the day. 

And sometimes for an hour or so 
I watched my leaden soldiers go, 
With different uniforms and drills, 
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills ; 

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets 
All up and down among the sheets ; 
Or brought my trees and houses out, 
And planted cities all about. 

I was the giant great and still 
That sits upon the pillow-hill, 
And sees before him, dale and plain, 
The pleasant land of counterpane. 



18 A child's garden of verses. 



The Land of Nod. 

From breakfast on through all the day 
At home among my friends I stay, 
But every night I go abroad 
Afar into the land of Nod. 

All by myself I have to go, 

With none to tell me what to do — 

All alone beside the streams 

And up the mountain-sides of dreams. 

The strangest things are there for me, 
Both things to eat and things to see, 
And many frightening sights abroad 
Till morning in the land of Nod. 

Try as I like to find the way, 
I never can get back by day, 
Nor can remember plain and clear 
The curious music that I hear. 



MY SHADOW. 21 



My Shadow. 

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with 

me, 
And what can be the use of him is more than I 

can see. 
He is very, very like me from the heels up to 

the head ; 
And I see him jump before me, when I jump 

into my bed. 

The funniest thing about him is the way he 
likes to grow — 

Not at all like proper children, which is always 
very slow ; 

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india- 
rubber ball, 

And he sometimes gets so little that there's 
none of him at all. 

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought 

to play, 
And can only make a fool of me in every sort 

of way. 



22 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 

He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you 

can see ; 
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that 

shadow sticks to me ! 

One morning, very early, before the sun was up, 

I rose and found the shining dew on every 
buttercup ; 

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy- 
head, 

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast 
asleep in bed. 



SYSTEM. 23 



System. 

Every night my prayers I say, 
And get my dinner every day ; 
And every day that I've been good, 
I get an orange after food. 

The child that is not clean and neat 
With lots of toys and things to eat, 
He is a naughty child, I'm sure — 
Or else his dear papa is poor. 



24 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



A Good Boy. 

I woke before the morning, I was happy all 

the day, 
I never said an ugly word, but smiled and stuck 

to play. 

And now at last the sun is going down behind 

the wood, 
And I am very happy, for I know that I've 

been good. 

My bed is waiting cool and fresh, with linen 

smooth and fair, 
And I must off to sleepsin-by, and not forget 

my prayer. 

I know that, till to-morrow I shall see the sun 

arise, 
No ugly dream shall fright my mind, no ugly 

sight my eyes. 

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in 

the dawn, 
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs 

round the lawn. 



ESCAPE AT BEDTIME. 2$ 



Escape att Bedtime. 

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone 
out 
Through the blinds and the windows and 
bars ; 
And high overhead and all moving about, 

There were thousands of millions of stars. 
There ne'er were such thousands of leaves on a 
tree, 
Nor of people in church or the Park, 
As the crowds of the stars that looked down 
upon me, 
And that glittered and winked in the dark. 



The Dog, 1 and the Plough, and the Hunter, and 
all, 
And the star of the sailor, and Mars, 
These shone in the sky, and the pail by the 
wall 
Would be half full of water and stars. 
They saw me at last, and they chased me with 
cries, 



26 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



And they soon had me packed into bed ; 
But the glory kept shining and bright in my 
eyes, 
And the stars going round in my head. 



MARCHING SONG. 27 



Marching Song. 

Bring the comb and play upon it ! 

Marching, here we come ! 
Willie cocks his highland bonnet, 

Johnnie beats the drum. 

Mary Jane commands the party, 

Peter leads the rear ; 
Feet in time, alert and hearty, 

Each a Grenadier! 



All in the most martial manner 

Marching double-quick ; 
While the napkin like a banner 

Waves upon the stick ! 

Here's enough of fame and pillage, 

Great commander Jane ! 
Now that we've been round the village, 

Let's go home again. 



28 a child's garden of verses. 



The Cow. 

The friendly cow all red and white, 

I love with all my heart : 
She gives me cream with all her might, 

To eat with appie-tart. 

She wanders lowing here and there, 

And yet she cannot stray, 
All in the pleasant open air, 

The pleasant light of day ; 

And blown by all the winds that pass 
And wet with all the showers, 

She walks among the meadow grass 
And eats the meadow flowers. 




THE COW. 
29 



HAPPY THOUGHT. 3 I 



Hewppv Thought, 

The world is so full of a number of things, 
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 



/ 



32 A child's garden of verses. 



The Wind. 

I saw you toss the kites on high 
And blow the birds about the sky ; 
And all around I heard you pass, 
Like ladies' skirts across the grass — 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

I saw the different things you did, 
But always you yourself you hid. 
I felt you push, I heard you call, 
I could not see yourself at all — 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

O you that are so strong and cold, 
O blower, are you young or old ? 
Are you a beast of field and tree, 
Or just a stronger child than me? 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 



^•S5PH3K . IPS! 



•*§§§ip 




THE WIND 
33 



KEEPSAKE MILL. 35 



Keepsake Mill. 

Over the borders, a sin without pardon, 
Breaking the branches and crawling below, 

Out through the breach in the wall of the 
garden, 
Down by the banks of the river, we go. 

Here is the mill with the humming of thunder, 
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, 

Here is the sluice with the race running under — 
Marvellous places, though handy to home ! 

Sounds of the village grow stiller and stiller, 
Stiller the note of the birds on the hill ; 

Dusty and dim are the eyes of the miller, 
Deaf are his ears with the moil of the mill. 

Years may go by, and the wheel in the river 
Wheel as it wheels for us, children, to-day, 

Wheel and keep roaring and foaming for ever 
Long after all of the boys are away. 

Home from the Indies and home from theocean, 
Heroes and soldiers we all shall come home ; 



36 A CHILD'S garden of verses. 

Still we shall find the old mill wheel in motion, 
Turning and churning that river to foam. 

You with the bean that I gave when we quar* 
relied, 

I with your marble of Saturday last, 
Honoured and old and all gaily apparelled, 

Here we shall meet and remember the past. 



GOOD AND BAD CHILDREN. 2)7 



Good and Bad Children. 

Children, you are very little, 
And your bones are very brittle ; 
If you would grow great and stately, 
You must try to walk sedately. 

You must still be bright and quiet, 
And content with simple diet ; 
And remain, through all bewild'ring, 
Innocent and honest children. 

Happy hearts and happy faces, 
Happy play in grassy places — 
That was how, in ancient ages, 
Children grew to kings and sages. 

But the unkind and the unruly, 
And the sort who eat unduly, 
They must never hope for glory — 
Theirs is quite a different story ! 

Cruel children, crying babies, 
All grow up as geese and gabies, l 
Hated, as their age increases, 
By their nephews and their nieces. 



33 a child's garden of verses. 



Foreign Children. 

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 

! don't you wish that you were me ? 

You have seen the scarlet trees 
And the lions over seas ; 
You have eaten ostrich eggs, 
And turned the turtles off their legs. 

Such a life is very fine, 
But it's not so nice as mine : 
You must often, as you trod, 
Have wearied, not to be abroad. 

You have curious things to eat, 
I am fed on proper meat ; 
You must dwell beyond the foam, 
But I am safe and live at home. 

Little Indian, Sioux or Crow, 

Little frosty Eskimo, 

Little Turk or Japanee, 

O ! don't you wish that you were me ? 



the sun's travels. 39 



The Sun's Travels. 

The sun is not a-bed, when I 

At night upon my pillow lie ; 

Still round the earth his way he takes, 

And morning after morning makes. 

While here at home, in shining day, 
We round the sunny garden play, 
Each little Indian sleepy-head 
Is being kissed and put to bed. 

And when at eve I rise from tea, 
Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea ; 
And all the children in the West 
Are getting up and being dressed. 



4 o 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 




The Lamplighter. 



My tea is nearly ready and the sun 

has left the sky ; 
It's time to take the window to 

see Leerie going by ; 
For every night at teatime and 

before you take your seat, 
With lantern and with ladder he 

comes posting up the street. 



THE LAMPLIGHTER. 4 1 

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go 1o 

sea, 
And my papa's a banker and as rich as he can 

be ; 
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what 

I'm to do, 
O Leerie, I'll go round at night and light the 

lamps with you ! 

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the 

door, 
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so 

many more ; 
And O ! before you hurry by with ladder and 

. with light ; 
O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him 

to-night ! 



42 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



My Bed Is a Boat. 

My bed is like a little boat ; 

Nurse helps me in when I embark ; 
She girds me in my sailor's coat 

And starts me in the dark. 

At night, I go on board and say 

Good night to all my friends on shore ; 
I shut my eyes and sail away 

And see and hear no more. 

And sometimes things to bed I take, 
As prudent sailors have to do; 

Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake, 
Perhaps a toy or two. 

All night across the dark we steer; 

But when the day returns at last, 
Safe in my room, beside the pier, 

I find my vessel fast. 



THE MOON. 43 



The Moon. 

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall ; 
She shines on thieves on the garden wall, 
On streets and fields and harbour quays, 1 
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees. 

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, 
The howling dog by the door of the house, 
The bat that lies in bed at noon, 
All love to be out by the light of the moon. 

But all of the things that belong to the day 
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way ; 
And flowers and children close their eyes 
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise. 



44 A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



The Swing. 

How do you like to go up in a swing, 

Up in the air so blue ? 
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing 

Ever a child can do ! 

Up in the air and over the wall, 

Till I can see so wide, 
Rivers and trees and cattle and all 

Over the countryside — 



Till I look down on the garden green. 

Down on the roof so brown — 
Up in the air I go flying again, 

Up in the air and down ! 



TIME TO RISE. 



45 




A birdie with a yellow bill 
Hopped upon the window sill, 
Cocked his shining eye and said : 
" Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy -head ! " 



46 a child's garden of verses. 



Looking-glass Reiver. 

Smooth it slides upon its travel, 
Here a wimple, 1 there a gleam — 
O the clean gravel ! 
O the smooth stream ! 

Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, 
Paven pools as clear as air — ■ 
How a child wishes 
To live down there ! 

We can see our coloured faces 
Floating on the shaken pool 
Down in cool places, 
Dim and very cool ; 

Till a wind or water wrinkle, 

Dipping marten", plumping trout, 
Spreads in a twinkle 
And blots all out. 

See the rings pursue each other ; 
All below grows black as night, 



LOOKING-GLASS KIVER. 47 

Just as if mother 

Had blown out the light ! 

Patience, children, just a minute — 
See the spreading circles die ; 
The stream and all in it 
Will clear by-and-by. 



48 a child's garden of verses. 



Fa.iry Bread. 

Come up here, O dusty feet ! 
Here is fairy bread to eat. 
Here in my retiring room, 

Children, you may dine 
On the golden smell of broom 

And the shade of pine ; 
And when you have eaten well f 
Fairy stories hear and tell. 



FROM A RAILWAY CARRIAGE. 49 



From a Railway Ca.rria.ge. 

Faster than fairies, faster than witches, 
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches ; 
And charging along like troops in a battle, 
All through the meadows the horses and cattle; 
All of the sights of the hill and the plain 
Fly as thick as driving rain ; 
And ever again, in the wink of an eye, 
Painted stations whistle by. 

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles, 
All by himself and gathering brambles ; 
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes ; 
And there is the green for stringing the daisies! 
Here is a cart run away in the road 
Lumping along with man and load ; 
And here is a mill and there is a river : 
Each a glimpse and gone for ever ! 



50 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Winter-time. 

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head ; 
Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 
A blood-red orange, sets again. 

Before the stars have left the skies, 
At morning in the dark I rise ; 
And shivering in my nakedness, 
By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 

Close by the jolly fire I sit 
To warm my frozen bones a bit ; 
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore 
The colder countries round the door. 

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 
Me in my comforter and cap ; 
The cold wind burns my face, and blows 
Its frosty pepper up my nose. 

Black are my steps on silver sod ; 
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad ; 
And tree and house, and hill and lake, 
Are frosted like a wedding-cake. 



THE HAYLOFT. 5 I 



The Hayloft 



Through all the pleasant meadow-side 

The grass grew shoulder-high, 
Till the shining scythes went far and wide 

And cut it down to dry. 

These green and sweetly smelling crops 

They led in wagons home ; 
And they piled them here in mountain tops 

For mountaineers to roam. 

Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, 
Mount Eagle and Mount High ; — 

The mice that in these mountains dwell, 
No happier are than I ! 

O what a joy to clamber there, 

O what a place for play, 
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air, 

The happy hills of hay ! 



A CHILD 5 GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Farewell to :he Farm. 

The coach is at the door at last ; 
The eager children, mounting fast 
And kissing hands, in chorus sing : 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 



To house and garden, field and lawn s 
The meadow-gates we swang upon, 
To pump and stable, tree and swing, 



Good-bve, good-bve, to evervthin 



r- 



And fare you well for evermore, 
O ladder at the hayloft door, 
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling;, 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 

Crack goes the whip, and off we g ; 
The trees and houses smaller grow ; 
Last, round the woody turn we swing ; 
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything ! 



NOKT 1 1 W EST PASSAG E. 



53 




Northwest Passage. 



GOOD NIGHT. 

When the bright lamp is carried in, 
The sunless hours again begin ; 
O'er all without, in field and lane, 
The haunted night returns again. 



Now we behold the 

embers flee 
About the firelit hearth 

and see 
Our pictures painted as 

we Dass, 
Like pictures, on the 

window-glass. 




54 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 

Must we to bed indeed ? Well then, 
Let us arise and go like men, 
And face with an undaunted tread 
The long black passage up to bed. 

Farewell, O brother, sister, sire ! 
O pleasant party round the fire ! 
The songs you sing, the tales you tell, 
Till far to-morrow, fare ye well ! 



NORTHWEST PASSAGE. 



55 




56 a child's garden of verses. 

And all round the candle the crooked shadows 
come, 
And go marching along up the stair. 

The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the 
lamp, 
The shadow of the child that goes to bed — 
All the wicked shadows coming, tramp, tramp, 
tramp, 
With the black night overhead. 



NORTHWEST PASSAGE. 



57 



III. IN PORT. 



Last, to the chamber where I lie 
My fearful footsteps patter nigh, 
And come from out the cold and gloom 
Into my warm and cheerful room. 

There, safe arrived, we turn about 
To keep the coming shadows out, 
And close the happy door at last 
On all the perils that we past. 

Then, when mamma goes by to bed, 
She shall come in with tip-toe tread, 
And see me lying warm and fast 
And in the Land of Nod at last. 




THE CHILD ALONE 



THE UNSEEN PLAYMATE. 6l 



The Unseen PlaLynr\a.te. 

When children are playing alone on the green, 
In comes the playmate that never was seen. 
When children are happy and lonely and good, 
The Friend of the Children comes out of the 
wood. 

Nobody heard him and nobody saw, 

His is a picture you never could draw, 

But he's sure to be present, abroad or at home, 

When children are happy and playing alone. 

He lies in the laurels, he runs on the grass, 
He sings when you tinkle the musical glass ; 
Whene'er you are happy and cannot tell why, 
The Friend of the Children is sure to be by ! 

He loves to be little, he hates to be big, 
'Tis he that inhabits the caves that you dig ; 
'Tis he when you play with your soldiers of 

tin 
That sides with the Frenchmen and never can 

win. 



62 a child's garden of verses. 

Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed. 
Bids you go to your sleep and not trouble your 

ad ; 
For Lying in cupboard or 

shelf, 
'Tis he will take care of your playthings him- 

self : 



MY SHIP AND I. 



My Ship and I. 



63 



O it's I that am the captain of a tidy little ship 

Of a ship that goes a-sailing on the pond ; 
And my ship it keeps a-turning all around and 

all about ; 
but when I'm a little older, I shall find the 
secret out 
How to send my vessel sailing on beyond. 

For I mean to grow as little as the dolly at the 
helm, 
And the dolly I intend to come alive ; 
And with him beside to help me, it's a-sailing I 

shall go, 
It's a-sailing on the water, when the jolly 
breezes blow 
And the vessel goes a divie-divie-dive. 



O it's then you'll see me sailing through the 
rushes and the reeds, 
And you'll hear the water singing at the 
prow ; 



64 a child's garden of verses. 

For beside the dolly sailor, I'm to voyage and 

explore, 
To land upon the island where no dolly was 

before, 
And to fire the penny cannon in the bow. 



MY KINGDOM. 



My Kingdom, 



65 



Down by a shining water well 
I found a very little dell, 

No higher than my head. 
The heather'and the gorse about 
In summer bloom were coming out, 

Some yellow and some red. 



I called the little pool a sea ; 
The little hills were big to me ; 

For I am very small. 
I made a boat, I made a town, 
I searched the caverns up and down. 

And named them one and all. 



And all about was mine, I said, 
The little sparrows overhead, 

The little minnows too. 
This was the world and I was king ; 
For me the bees came by to sing, 

For me the swallows flew. 



66 a child's garden of verses. 

I played there were no deeper seas, 
Nor any wider plains than these, 

Nor other kings than me. 
At last I heard my mother call 
Out from the house at evenfall, 

To call me home to tea. 



And I must rise and leave my dell, 
And leave my dimpled water well, 

And leave my heather blooms. 
Alas ! and as my home I neared, 
How very big my nurse appeared, 

How great and cool thO rooms ! 



PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER. 6? 



Picture-books in Winter. 

Summer fading;, winter comes — 
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs, 
Window robins, winter rooks, 1 
And the picture story-books. 

Water now is turned to stone 
Nurse and I can walk upon ; 
Still we find the flowing brooks 
In the picture story-books. 

All the pretty things put by, 
Wait upon the children's eye, 
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks, 
In the picture story-books. 

We may see how all things are, 
Seas and cities, near and far, 
And the flying fairies' looks, 
In the picture story-books. 

How am I to sing your praise, 
Happy chimney-corner days, 
Sitting safe in nursery nooks, 
Reading picture story-books ? 



68 a child's garden of verses. 



My Treasures. 

These nuts, that I keep in the back of the 

nest 
Where all my lead soldiers are lying at rest, 
Were gathered in autumn by nursie and me 
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea. 

This whistle we made (and how clearly it 

sounds !) 
By the side of a field at the end of the 

grounds. 
Of a branch of a plane, with a knife of my 

own, 
It was nursie who made it, and nursie alone ! 

The stone, with the whits ar_d the yellow and 

gray, 
We discovered I cannot tell Jiozv far away ; 
And I carried it back although weary and 

cold, 
For though father denies it, I'm sure it is 

gold. 



MY TREASURES. 



69 



But of all my treasures the last is the king, 
For there's very few children possess such a 

thing ; 
And that is a chisel, both handle and blade, 
Which a man who was really a carpenter made. 




JO A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Block City. 

What are you able to build with your blocks ? 
Castles and palaces, temples and docks. 
Rain may keep raining, and others go roam, 
But I can be happy and building at home. 

Let the sofa be mountains, the carpet be sea> 
There I'll establish a city for me : 
A kirk and a mill and a palace beside, 
And a harbour as well where my vessels may 
ride. 

Great is the palace with pillar and wall, 
A sort of a tower on the top of it all, 
And steps coming down in an orderly way 
To where my toy vessels lie safe in the bay. 

This one is sailing and that one is moored : 
Hark to the song of the sailors on board ! 
And see on the steps of my palace, the kings 
Coming and going with presents and things ! 

Now I have done with it, down let it go ! 
All in a moment the town is laid low. 



BLOCK CITY. J I 

Block upon block lying scattered and free, 
What is there left of my town by the sea ? 

Yet as I saw it, I see it again, 
The kirk and the palace, the ships and the men, 
And as long as I live arid where'er I may be, 
I'll always remember my town by the sea. , 



J2 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



The Land of Story-books. 

At evening when the lamp is lit, 
Around the fire my parents sit ; 
They sit at home and talk and sing, 
And do not play at anything. 

Now, with my little gun, I crawl 
All in the dark along the wall, 
And follow round the forest track 
Away behind the sofa back. 

There, in the night, where none can spy, 
All in my hunter's camp I lie, 
And play at books that I have read 
Till it is time to go to bed. 

These are the hills, these are the woods, 
These are my starry solitudes ; 
And there the river by whose brink 
The roaring lions come to drink. 

I see the others far away 
As if in fi relit camp they lay, 



HIE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS. 



73 



And I, like to an Indian scout, 
Around their party prowled about. 

So, when my nurse comes in for me, 
Home I return across the sea, 
And go to bed with backward looks 
At my dear land of Story-books. 




74 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Armies in the Fire. 

The lamps now glitter down the street ; 
Faintly sound the falling feet ; 
And the blue even slowly falls 
About the garden trees and walls. 

Now in the falling of the gloom 
The red fire paints the empty room : 
And warmly on the roof it looks, 
And flickers on the backs of books. 

Armies march by tower and spire 
Of cities blazing, in the fire ; — 
Till as I gaze with staring eyes, 
The armies fade, the lustre dies. 

Then once again the glow returns, 
Again the phantom city burns ; 
And down the red-hot valley, lo ! 
The phantom armies marching go! 

Blinking embers, tell me true 
Where are those armies marching to. 
And what the burning city is 
That crumbles in your furnaces ! 



THE LITTLE LAND. 75 



The Little Land. 

When at home alone I sit 
And am very tired of it, 
I have just to shut my eyes 
To go sailing through the skies — 
To go sailing far away 
To the pleasant Land of Play ; 
To the fairy-lancl afar 
Where the Little People are ; 
Where the clover-tops are trees, 
And the rain-pools are the seas, 
And the leaves like little ships 
Sail about on tiny trips ; 

And above the daisy tree 

Through the grasses, 
High o'erhead the Bumble Bee 

Hums and passes. 

In that forest to and fro 
I can wander, I can go ; 
See the spider and the fly, 
And the ants go marching by 
Carrying parcels with their feet 
Down the green and grrssy street. 



76 A child's garden of verses. 

I can in the sorrel sit 

Where the ladybird alit. 

I can climb the jointed grass 

And on high 
See the greater swallows pass 

In the sky, 
And the round sun rolling by 
Heeding no such things as I. 



Through that forest I can pass 
Till, as in a looking-glass, 
Humming fly and daisy tree 
And my tiny self I see, 
Painted very clear and neat 
On the rain-pool at my feet. 
Should a leaflet come to land 
Drifting near to where I stand, 
Straight I'll board that tiny boat 
Round the rain-pool sea to float. 
Little thoughtful creatures sit 
On the grassy coasts of it ; 
Little things with lovely eyes 
See me sailing with surprise. 
Some are clad in armour green — 
(These have sure to battle been ! ) 



THE LITTLE LAND. JJ 

i 

Some are pied with ev 'ry hue, 
Black and crimson, gold and blue ; 
Some have wings and swift are gone ; — 
But they all look kindly on. 

When my eyes I once again 
Open, and see all things plain : 
High bare walls, great bare floor ; 
Great big knobs on drawer and door ; 
Great big people perched on chairs, 
Stitching tucks and mending tears, 
Each a hill that I could climb, 
And talking nonsense all the time — 

O dear me, 

That I could be 
A sailor on the rain-pool sea, 
A climber in the clover tree, 
And just come back, a sleepy-head, 
Late at night to go to bed. 



GARDEN DAYS 



NIGHT AND DAY. 



Night and Day. 



When the golden day is done, 
Through the closing portal, 

Child and garden, flower and sun, 
Vanish all things mortal. 

As the blinding shadows fall 

As the rays diminish, 
Under evening's cloak, they all 

Roll away and vanish. 

Garden darkened, daisy shut, 
Child in bed, they slumber — 

Glow-worm in the highway rut, 
Mice among the lumber. 

In the darkness houses shine, 
Parents move with candles ; 

Till on all, the night divine 
Turns the bedroom handles. 

Till at last the day begins 
In the east a-breaking, 

In the hedges and the whins 
Sleeping birds a-waking. 



82 a child's garden of verses. 

In the darkness shapes of things, 
Houses, trees and hedges, 

Clearer grow ; and sparrow's wings 
Beat on window ledges. 

These shall wake the yawning maid ; 

She the door shall open — 
Finding dew on garden glade 

And the morning broken. 



There my garden grows again 
Green and rosy painted, 

As at eve behind the pane 
From my eyes it fainted. 

Just as it was shut away, 
Toy-like in the even, 

Here I see it glow with day 
Under glowing heaven. 

Every path and every plot, 
Every bush of roses, 

Every blue forget-me-not 
Where the dew reposes, 



NIGHT AND DAY. 8$ 

' Up ! " they cry, " the day is come 

On the smiling valleys : 
We have beat the morning drum ; 

Playmate, join your allies ! " 



84 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Nest E*gs. 

Birds all the sunny day 

Flutter and quarrel 
Here in the arbour-like 

Tent of the laurel. 

Here in the fork 

The brown nest is seated ; 
Four little blue eggs 

The mother keeps heated. 

While we stand watching her, 

Staring like gabies/ 
Safe in each egg are the 

Bird's little babies. 

Soon the frail eggs they shall 
Chip, and upspringing 

Make all the April woods 
Merry with singing. 

Younger than we are, 
O children, and frailer, 



NEST EGGS. 8$ 

Soon in blue air they'll be, 
Singer and sailor. 

We, so much older, 

Taller and stronger, 
We shall look down on the 

Birdies no longer. 

They shall go flying 

With musical speeches 
High overhead in the 

Tops of the beeches. 

In spite of our wisdom 

And sensible talking, 
We on our feet must go 

Plodding and walking 



86 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 




The Flowers. 

All the names. I know from nurse : 
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse, 
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock, 
And the Lady Hollyhock. 

Fairy places, fairy things, 
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings, 
Tiny trees for tiny dames — 
These must all be fairy names ! 



Tiny woods below whose boughs 
Shady fairies weave a house ; 
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme, 
Where the braver fairies climb ! 



THE FLOWERS. 8? 

Fair are grown-up people's trees, 
But the fairest woods are these ; 
Where if I were not so tall, 
I should live lor good and all. 



88 a child's garden of verses. 



Summer Sun. 

Great is the sun, and wide he goes 
Through empty heaven without repose ; 
And in the blue and glowing days 
More thick than rain he showers his rays. 

Though closer still the blinds we pull 
To keep the shady parlour cool, 
Yet he will find a chink or two 
To slip his golden fingers through. 

The dusty attic spider-clad 
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad ; 
And through the broken edge of tiles, 
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles. 

Meantime his golden face around 
He bears to all the garden ground, 
And sheds a warm and glittering look 
Among the ivy's inmost nook. 

Above the hills, along the blue, 
Round the bright air with footing true, 
To please the child, to paint the rose, 
The gardener of the World, he goes. 



THE DUMB SOLDIER. 89 



The Dumb Soldier. 

When the grass was closely mown, 
Walking on the lawn alone, 
In the turf a hole I found 
And hid a soldier underground. 

Spring and daisies came apace ; 
Grasses hide my hiding place ; 
Grasses run like a green sea 
O'er the lawn up to my knee. 

Under grass alone he lies, 
Looking up with leaden eyes, 
Scarlet coat and pointed gun, 
To the stars and to the sun. 

When the grass is ripe like grain, 
When the scythe is stoned again, 
When the lawn is shaven clear, 
Then my hole shall reappear. 

I shall find him, never fear, 
I shall find my grenadier ; 
But for all that's gone and come, 
I shall find my soldier dumb. 



gO A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 

He has lived, a little thing, 
In the grassy woods of spring ; 
Done, if he could tell me true, 
Just as I should like to do. 

He has seen the starry hours 
And the springing of the flowers ; 
And the fairy things that pass 
In the forests of the grass. 

In the silence he has heard 
Talking bee and ladybird, 
And the butterfly has flown 
O'er him as he lay alone. 

Not a word will he disclose, 
Not a word of all he knows. 
I must lay him on the shelf, 
And make up the tale myself. 



AUTUMN FIRES. 9 1 



Autumn Fires. 

In the other gardens 

And all up the vale, 
From the autumn bonfires 

See the smoke trail ! 

Pleasant summer over 

And all the summer flowers, 
The red fire blazes, 

The gray smoke towers. 



Sing a song of seasons ! 

Something bright in all ! 
Flowers in the summer, 

Fires in the fall ! 



92 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



The Gardener. 

The gardener does not love to talk, 
He makes me keep the gravel walk ; 
And when he puts his tools away, 
He locks the door and takes the key. 

Away behind the currant row 
Where no one else but cook may go, 
Far in the plots, I see him dig, 
Old and serious, brown and big. 

He digs the flowers, green, red, and blue ? 
Nor wishes to be spoken to. 
He digs the flowers and cuts the hay, 
And never seems to want to play. 

Silly gardener ! summer goes, 
And winter comes with pinching toes, 
When in the garden bare and brown 
You must lay your barrow down. 

Well now, and while the summer stays, 
To profit by these garden days 
O how much wiser you would be 
To play at Indian wars with me ! 




93 



HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS. 95 



Historical Associations. 

Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground 
That now you smoke your pipe around, 
Has seen immortal actions done 
And valiant battles lost and won. 

Here we had best on tip-toe tread, 
While I for safety march ahead, 
For this is that enchanted ground 
Where all who loiter slumber sound. 

Here is the sea, here is the sand, 
Here is simple Shepherd's Land, 
Here are the fairy hollyhocks, 
And there are Ali Baba'sVocks. 

But yonder, see ! apart and high, 
Frozen Siberia lies ; where I, g 

With Robert Bruce 2 and William Tell, 
Was bound by an enchanter's spell. 



ENVOYS 



TO WILLIE AND HENRIETTA. 99 



To Willie and Henrietta. 

If two may read aright 
These rhymes of old delight 
And house and garden play, 
You two, my cousins, and you only, may. 

You in a garden green 
With me were king and queen, 
Were hunter, soldier, tar, 
And all the thousand things that children are, 

Now in the elders' seat 
We rest with quiet feet, 
And from the window-bay 
We watch the children, our successors, play. 

"Time was," the golden head 
Irrevocably said ; 
But time which none can bind, 
While flowing fast away, leaves love behind 



IOO A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



To My Mother. 

You too, my mother, read my rhymes 
For love of unforgotten times, 
And you may chance to hear once more 
The little feet along the floor. 



TO AUNTIE. IOI 



To Auntie. 

Chief of our aunts — not only I, 

But all your dozen of nurslings cry — 

What did the other children do ? 

And what were childhood, wanting you ? 



102 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



To Minnie. 

The red room with the giant bed 

Where none but elders laid their head ; 

The little room where you and I 

Did for awhile together lie 

And, simple suitor, I your hand 

In decent marriage did demand ; 

The great day nursery, best of all, 

With pictures pasted on the wall 

And leaves upon the blind — 

A pleasant room wherein to wake 

And hear the leafy garden shake 

And rustle in the wind — 

And pleasant there to lie in bed 

And see the pictures overhead — 

The wars about Sebastopol, 

The grinning guns along the wall, 

The daring escalade, 

The plunging ships, the bleating sheep, 

The happy children ankle-deep 

And laughing as they wade : 

All these are vanished clean away, 



TO MINNIE. I03 

And the old manse is changed to-day ; 
It wears an altered face 
And shields a stranger race. 
The river, on from mill to mill, 
Flows past our childhood's garden still ; 
But ah ! we children never more 
Shall watch it from the water-door ! 
Below the yew — it still is there — 
Our phantom voices haunt the air 
As we were still at play, 
And I can hear them call and say ; 
Hoiv far is it to Babylon / " 



Ah, far enough, my dear, 

Far, far enough from here — 

Yet you have farther gone ! 

Can I get there by candlelight ?" 

So goes the old refrain. 

I do not know — perchance you might — 

But only, children, hear it right, 

Ah, never to return again ! 

The eternal dawn, beyond a doubt, 

Shall break on hill and plain, 

And put all stars and candles out 

Ere we be young again. 



104 A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 

To you in distant India, these 

I send across the seas, 

Nor count it far across. 

For which of us forgets 

The Indian cabinets, 

The bones of antelope, the wings of albatross, 

The pied and painted birds and beans, 

The junks and bangles, beads and screens, 

The gods and sacred bells, 

And the loud-humming, twisted shells! 

The level of the parlour floor 

Was honest, homely, Scottish shore ; 

But when we climbed upon a chair, 

Behold the gorgeous East was there ! 

Be this a fable ; and behold 

Me in the parlour as of old, 

And Minnie just above me set 

In the quaint Indian cabinet ! 

Smiling and kind, you grace a shelf 

Too high for me to reach myself. 

Reach down a hand, my dear, and take 

These rhymes for old acquaintance' sake! 



TO MY NAME-CHILD. IO5 



To My Na.me-child. 



Some day soon this rhyming volume, if you 
learn with proper speed, 

Little Louis Sanchez, will be given you to read. 

Then shall you discover, that your name was 
printed down 

By the English printers, long before, in Lon- 
don town. 

In the great and busy city where the East and 

West are met, 
All the little letters did the English printer 

set ; 
While you thought of nothing, and were still 

too young to play, 
Foreign people thought of you in places far 

away. 

Ay, and while you slept, a baby, over all the 

English lands 
Other little children took the volume in their 

hands ; 



io6 



A CHILD S GARDEN OF VERSES. 



Other children questioned, in their homes across 

the seas : 
Who was little Louis, won't you tell us, mother, 

please ? 



ii. 

Now that you have spelt your lesson, lay it 

down and go and play, 
Seeking shells and seaweed on the sands of 

Monterey, 
Watching all the mighty whalebones, lying 

buried by the breeze, 
Tiny sandy-pipers, and the huge Pacific seas. 
And remember in your playing, as the sea-fog 

rolls to you, 
Long ere you could read it, how I told you 

what to do ; 
And that wmle you thought of no one, nearly 

half the world away 
Some one thought of Louis on the beach of 

Monterey ! 



TO ANY READER. IO7 



To Any Reader, 



As from the house your mother sees 
You playing round the garden trees, 
So you may see, if you will look 
Through the windows of this book, 
Another child, far, far away, 
And in another garden, play. 
But do not think you can at all, 
By knocking on the window, call 
That child to hear you. He intent 
Is all on his play-business bent. 
He does not hear ; he will not look, 
Nor yet be lured out of this book. 
For, long ago, the truth to say, 
He has grown up and gene away, 
And it is but a child of air 
That lingers in the garden there. 




NOTES. 



Though the vocabulary employed by Robert 
Louis Stevenson, in the Child's Garden of Verses, 
is, for the most part, simple, a few words and 
phrases merit elucidation. 

But before proceeding- to the list of terms ex- 
plained, it may not be inappropriate to say that 
the reader will enjoy the poems vastly more if 
he will first establish for each one the rhythmic 
flow of the verse and so determine the syllables 
upon which the primary accents fall. If one will 
compare the rhythm, and the prominence of 
accents of any two poems, for example Bed in 
Summer and Looking-Glass River, the simple 
variations will be illustrated. 

The poet's love for music, his ability to play, 
and, in a measure, to write music, are evidence 
that he possessed an unusually delicate ear for 
the impulse of meter and the nuances of rhythm. 
Therefore, to determine these simple/ yet funda- 
109 



IIO NOTES. 

mental, factors for each of the poems is to in- 
crease one's pleasure. 

The essential musical quality of Stevenson's 
poetry has made its appeal to the composer. 
Many distinguished musicians have made musical 
settings of these verses. The inherent musical 
quality of the verses themselves, together with 
the prevailing delicate imagery or lively picture 
element of the poems, permit them to lend them- 
selves with especial fitness to music setting. The 
Swing, for example, has been set to music by Mr. 
Reginald DeKoven ; The Land of Nod, by the 
late Mr. W. W. Gilchrist ; Farezvell to the Farm, 
by George W. Chadwick. Many other distin- 
guished composers have also made settings to 
these verses ; and many of them have found an 
abiding place in school music literature. 

Page 4. — 1. Caravan: A company of travel- 
lers on a long journey, who travel 
together for mutual protection 
against robbers or other hostile 
forces. The English word van, a 
wagon, is an abbreviation of the 
word caravan. 

Page 9. — 1. A man goes riding by: The idea 
of the picture of the wind as a 



NOTES. Ill 

steed on which a man rides has 
appeared in many forms of legend 
and story. See Goethe's " Ed- 
iting," particularly as set to music 
by Franz Schubert. 
Pace io. — i. Golden apples: The Daughters of 
Hesperus, called the Hesperides, 
possessed a wonderful garden in 
which golden apples grew. 

2. Mosque: A Mohammedan 
church. 

3. Minaret: The tower of a mosque, 
provided with one or more balco- 
nies from which the summons to 
prayer is made by the Muezzin, 
or crier of the prayer hour. 

4. Bazaar: A market-place or ex- 
change in the Orient, where goods 
are offered for sale. 

Page ii. — 1. Corner-by: One who comes by, a 
passer-by. 
2. Palanquin: A sort of carriage 
body provided with handles or 
shafts and borne on men's shoul- 
ders. 

Page 24. — 1. Sleep sin-by: A pretty word, possi- 
bly of Stevenson's invention, 



1 12 NOTES. 

which means the Land of Sleep 
and the Land of Nod. 

Page 25. — 1. The Dog and the Plough, etc.: 
Names of constellations. 

Page 35. — 1. Weir: A dam raised in a river to 
direct the water to a mill or pond. 
2. Moil: Used here, apparently, in 
the sense of busy turmoil, noise; 
but the word literally means to 
toil, to drudge. It also means to 
daub or to defile with dirt. 

Page 37. — 1. Gabies (singular, gaby) : A 
simpleton, a dunce. 

Page 38.— 1. "O! don't you wish that you 
were me?" In order to make a 
rhyme with Japanee the author 
uses the objective me instead of 
the subjective I. But the stanza 
must be taken as a fun-loving 
jingle. 

Page 43. — 1. Quay: A wharf or landing-place 
on the water's edge. 

Page 46. — 1. Wimple: The verb means to rip- 
ple, to undulate ; hence a ripple 
on the surface of the water. 
2. Marten: A fnr-boaring animal 
closely related to the sable. 



NOTES. 113 

Page 55. — 1. Bogie (the singular is spelt also 
Bogy) : A frightful creature — a 
hobgoblin. 

Page 65. — 1. Heather and gorse: Two free- 
flowering, low-growing plants, 
common in the north of Eu- 
rope. The heather is a reddish 
purple, the gorse is golden yel- 
low. It is said of Linnaeus, the 
Swedish botanist, that when he 
first saw the gorse in bloom he 
fell on his knees and thanked God 
for making so beautiful a flower. 

Page 67. — 1. Rook: A bird resembling the 
crow though smaller. 

Page 70. — 1. Kirk: A Scotch word meaning 
church. 

Page yy. — 1. Pied: Variegated, showing many 
different colors. The Pied Piper 
o>f Hamelin was dressed in a 
costume of many colors. 

Page 84. — 1. Gabies: See note Page 37. 

Page 95. — 1. All Baba: A character in the 
Arabian Nights. 

2. Robert Bruce: King of the Scots. 
He lived from 1274 to 1329. 

3. William Tell: A Swiss patriot of 



114 NOTES. 

legendary fame who, because he 
refused to acknowledge the pres- 
ence of the Austrian governor, 
Gessler, was commanded to shoot 
an apple placed on the head of 
his own son. So unerring was 
his aim with the arrow that it 
pierced the apple without injur- 
ing the boy. 
Page 102. — 1! Escalade: A furious attack made 
by troops on a fortified place, in 
which ladders are used to pass a 
ditch or mount a rampart. Cf. 
French Escalier, a stairway. 



Cosy <&otntt Series 

Each lGmo, cloth decorative, per volume . . $0.50 

By CAROLINE E. JACOBS 

BAB'S CHRISTMAS AT STANHOPE 

The story of Bab, a little girl, who is obliged to spend 
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THE CHRISTMAS SURPRISE PARTY 

" The book is written with brisk and deft cleverness." 
— -Neio York Sun. 

A CHRISTMAS PROMISE 

A tender and appealing little story. 

By CHARLES DICKENS 
A CHRISTMAS CAROL 

No introduction is needed to Dickens' masterpiece, 
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A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR 

One of those beautiful, fanciful little allegories which 
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By OUIDA (Louise de la Ramte) 

A DOG OF FLANDERS 

A Christmas Story. 

Too well and favorably known to require description. 

THE NURNBERG STOVE 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
ft a popular p~>e. 

THE LITTLE EARL 

" Boy and girl readers will find entertainment in the 
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B— 1 



THE PAGE COMPANY'S 



By MISS MULOCK 
THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adven- 
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ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook 
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HIS LITTLE MOTHER 

Miss Mulock's short stories for children are a constant 
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LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY 

An attractive story of a summer outing. " Little Sun- 
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By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE 

THE FARRIER'S DOG AND HIS FELLOW 

This story will appeal to all that is best in the natures 
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THE FORTUNES OF THE FELLOW 

Those who read and enjoyed " The Farrier's Dog and 
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DOWN IN DIXIE 

A fascinating story of a family of Alabama children 
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B— 2 



COSY CORNER SERIES 



By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

THE LITTLE COLONEL (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine 
is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on 
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" Mrs. Johnston is a faithful interpreter of child life." 
— Chicago Daily News. 

THE GIANT SCISSORS 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in 
France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
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periences of the " House Party " and the " Holidays." 

" Its simple language and fine sentiment will charm 
every reader." — Pittsburg Gazette. 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 

Who Were the Little Colonel's Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
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" The truest portrayals of child life ever written." — 
Chicago Record-Herald. 

MILDRED'S INHERITANCE 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
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her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, happy 
one. 
B— 3 



THE PAGE COMPANY'S 



By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON (Continued) 
CICELY AND OTHER STORIES FOR GIRLS 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young 
people. 

AUNT 'LIZA'S HERO AND OTHER STORIES 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal 
to all boys and most girls. 

BIG BROTHER 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Stephen, 
himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of 
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OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT 

" Ole Mammy's Torment " has been fitly called " a 
classic of Southern life." It relates the haps and mis- 
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THE STORY OF DAGO 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
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THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT 

A pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and how 
it changed the course of his life many years after it was 
accomplished. 

FLIP'S ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE 

A story of a boy's life battle, his early defeat, and his 
final triumph, well worth the reading. 
B— 4 



COSY CORNER SERIES 



By EDITH ROBINSON 

A LITTLE PURITAN'S FIRST CHRISTMAS 

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christ- 
mas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the 
Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY 

The author introduces this story as follows: 
" One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul Re- 
vere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
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A LOYAL LITTLE MAID 

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A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time 
when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massa- 
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A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement 
at Charlestown. 

A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL 

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interest to youthful readers. 

A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER 

" The charm and historical value of the author's stories 
of child life in Colonial days have brought them wide 
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A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights of 
olden days. 
B— 5 



THE PACE COMPANY'S 



By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 

THE CRUISE OF THE YACHT DIDO 

The story of two boys who turned their yacht into a 
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THE YOUNG ACADIAN 

The story of a young lad of Acadia who rescued a little 
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THE LORD OF THE AIR 

The Story of the Eagle. 

THE KING OF THE MAMOZEKEL 

The Story of the Moose. 

THE WATCHERS OF THE CAMP-FIRE 

The Story of the Panther. 

THE HAUNTER OF THE PINE GLOOM 

The Story of the Lynx. 

THE RETURN TO THE TRAILS 

The Story of the Bear. 

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SYCAMORE 

The Story of the Raccoon. 



By JULIANA HORATIA EWING 

THE STORY OF A SHORT LIFE 

This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. 
It is a part of the world's literature, and will never die. 

JACKANAPES 

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A GREAT EMERGENCY 

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B— 6 



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THE LITTLE GIANT'S NEIGHBOURS 

A charming nature story of a " little giant " whose 
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FARMER BROWN AND THE BIRDS 

A little story which teaches children that the birds are 
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BETTY OF OLD MACKINAW 

A charming story of child life. 

BROTHER BILLY 

The story of Betty's brother, and some further adven- 
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MOTHER NATURE'S LITTLE ONES 

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or 
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HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO THE MUL- 

VANEYS 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children 
with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 

THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

Miss Fox has vividly described the happy surprises that 
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By LILLIE FULLER MERRIAM 

JENNY'S BIRD HOUSE 

A charmingly original story for the little folks. In the 
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JENNY AND TITO 

The story of bow Jenny crosses the big ocean and spends 
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B— / 



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By OTIIER AUTHORS 
EDITHA'S BURGLAR 

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THE LITTLEST ONE OF THE BROWNS 

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THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER: 

A Legend of Stiria. By John Ritskin. 
One of the best juveniles for children. 

A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES 

By R. L. Stevenson. 

Mr. Stevenson's little volume is too well known to 
need description. 

RAB AND HIS FRIENDS 

By Dr. John Brown. 

An old favorite that never loses its interest. 

JOE, THE CIRCUS BOY 

By Alice E. Allen. 

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trick dog of the circus. 

ROSEMARY 

By Alice E. Allen. 

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THE* MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 

By Edward Everett Hale. 

This remarkable story presents perhaps the greatest 
lesson in patriotism and love of country that was ever 
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B— 8 






Selections from 

The Page Company's 

Books for Young People 



THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

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A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

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" The book's heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
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BLUE BONNET'S RAITCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read. 
«' A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
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BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON; Or, Boarding- 

School Days at Miss North's. 
By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 
"It is bound to become popular because of its whole- 
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BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; Or, The 

New Home in the East. 

Bv Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 
"It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens." — New York Sun. 

BLUE BONNET— DEBUTANTE 

Bv Lela Horn Richards. 

An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for 
Blue Bonnet. 
A— 1 



THE PAGE COMPANY'S 



THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per 
volume SI. 25 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Or, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

" Such books as this are an admirable means of stimu- 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of 
the Republic." — Boston Globe. 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; 

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" The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
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THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 
" The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven- 
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THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; 

Or, In the Country of the Sioux. 

" Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
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THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW- 
STONE; Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders. 
" There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 

the story is well told." — D ninth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

"The story is full of spirited action and contains much 
valuable historical information." — Boston Herald. 
A— 2 



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